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"
Nearer
,
"
said
the
man
.
Julien
advanced
still
further
,
holding
out
his
hand
,
as
though
trying
to
lean
on
something
.
"
Your
name
?
"
"
Julien
Sorel
.
"
"
You
are
certainly
very
late
,
"
said
the
man
to
him
,
as
he
rivetted
again
on
him
that
terrible
gaze
.
Julien
could
not
endure
this
look
.
Holding
out
his
hand
as
though
to
support
himself
,
he
fell
all
his
length
along
the
floor
.
The
man
rang
.
Julien
had
only
lost
the
use
of
his
eyes
and
the
power
of
movement
.
He
heard
steps
approaching
.
He
was
lifted
up
and
placed
on
the
little
armchair
of
white
wood
.
He
heard
the
terrible
man
saying
to
the
porter
,
"
He
has
had
an
epileptic
fit
apparently
,
and
this
is
the
finishing
touch
.
"
